In the adventures of writing and drawing, I have been lax of late. I feel as though I have beset by distraction from the fates as they thumb their noses to the muses that support my creativity. Tonight, I will at least prep for a gallery show next Thursday and hope for the best. Positivity is my one asset as I return the thumbing in the direction of the snarky fates. I shall not think of failure, despite your best efforts, sisters three.

To you, those who follow this weblog, I ask a paltry favor, send me a tad bit of your positive energy. It will carry me through these doldrums as a wind in my creative sails. I thank you in advance for adding to what I push for every day. The sea ahead is stormy, but I see a grand adventure, refusing to accept what others are telling me will surely sink me.

Sail on with me, and I will bring you more adventure from the confines of my mind. Here is a sampling from Wages of War. Attached is a sketch and a letter from Cavan to Jules.

Jules, May 12, 1919

My dear friend, I do miss you at this time. I am not sure how this letter will find you, but the Harcos and the Empire’s best have assured me you will receive it. I must tell you of the events in the last two weeks.

Sonia and I arrived via the Resuelto. Being that you had more cause to occupy the military frigates than us, since we’re travelling within the empire’s continent. When we touched down in Seattle, the province was in an uproar. Across the airfield, a riotous crowd ran for our moorings, trying to pull us down. It was bedlam. We managed to take flight again with only a few civilians falling short distances, but with a cross-continental trip we were nearly out of coal.

The captain radioed to the governor’s office in the province trying to ascertain what could have caused this. It turns out that someone had beat us to Seattle. Every night, from the air, Japanese war dragons had been dropping barrels of gasses killing all of the fairies. Thankfully we arrived in the middle of the day avoiding the nocturnal siege of the city.

Seventy-Four elderly and infants had died from inhalation poisoning. The military forces posted this far out were no match for the massive airships and the dozens of biplanes they carry.